


Oliver

by alextree



Series: Mycroft misc. [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:33:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alextree/pseuds/alextree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Lestrade, there was Oliver. This is the story of Mycroft's first love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wanna Be My Friend?

Mycroft and Oliver had met in college. Actually, that’s a lie. They met when Mycroft was in 5th grade on the playground. At ten years, Mycroft didn’t have many friends. Ever since the hamster incident other kids’ parents didn’t want their children playing with “that weird Holmes boy.”

Mycroft remembers it well. It was a Tuesday morning and he was sitting alone under the bridge on the playground reading Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein which was his favorite book. He could relate to the creature. Being cast aside by society. He, like the creature, wanted friends, but both were feared by their peers. Just as he was finishing his book was snatched out of his hands.

“Hey! Give it back!” yelled Mycroft.

“Whoa! Guys! He speaks! The freak speaks! Killed anything today?” jeered Tom.  
Tom had been Mycroft’s best friend before the hamster incident. They would spend hours at a time running around the Holmes’ garden pretending to be explorers and pirates. Mycroft was always the pirate while Tom was the brave explorer. After the hamster incident occurred Tom’s parents didn’t allow him to play with Mycroft anymore. When they came back to school after summer break Tom pretended to not know him. Mycroft was crushed. Since then, Tom had taken every opportunity to tease Mycroft and make his life miserable.

“Give me my book back Tom!”

“You’ll have to catch me!” said Tom, sneering at Mycroft as he turned and began to run away with his book. Tom had always been the faster of the two and easily outran Mycroft. Mycroft gave up and walked back to his spot under the bridge.

“Hey Tom! Give that back. It’s not yours.” Said another voice.  
Mycroft peered out from his spot under the bridge. Another boy had caught Tom and was wrestling the book out of his grip.  
“Fine! Whatever. Take it.” Snapped Tom.

The other boy began walking towards Mycroft’s spot and Mycroft crawled back and tried to disappear.

“Hey there. I have your book. You want it?” asked the other boy as he handed Mycroft the book.  
Mycroft reached out tentatively and took it. Then he did something he hadn’t anticipated.

“Wanna come in here? There’s room for two.”  
The other boy grinned and crawled under and sat across from Mycroft. Mycroft stuck out his right hand awkwardly and said, “I’m Mycroft. Thank you for returning my book.”

“I’m Oliver. Tom’s a meanie. Don’t let him bother you.” He said as he shook Mycroft’s hand.  
Mycroft smiled shyly at the other boy. No one had stuck up for him before. Mycroft ran his eyes over the other boy. He was medium build with short sandy blond hair. He had a line of freckles running across his nose. Mycroft was so lost in his observations that he jumped when Oliver spoke again.

“Wanna be my friend?”

“What?” no one wanted to be Mycroft’s friend. He was puzzled. “Why?”

“Because I’m new and you seem nice.”  
A huge grin broke out across Mycroft’s face. “Okay. Friends.”  
Mycroft didn’t stop grinning until he got home.

Oliver and Mycroft became fast friends, but when it was time to go to middle school Mycroft was sent off to a fancy private school while Oliver remained in the public school system.  
____________________________________________________________________________

Seven years past and Mycroft was now a freshman at University. It was a Friday night and he was running late to his politics and international studies class. As he turned a corner he ran smack into another student and knocked accidentally knocked the books out of the other student’s hands.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to. Here, let me help you.” Stammered Mycroft as he bent down to help the other boy pick up his books.

“Thanks.” Said the other boy. When he stood up, Mycroft got a chance to look at him in his entirety. He carried himself with confidence. He had broad shoulders and a light dusting of freckles across his face. He had short sandy brown hair that was cropped so that his ears seemed to stick out a bit. The boy smiled at him. Mycroft recognized that smile ,but couldn’t quite recall where he’d seen it.

“What class are you off to?” asked the boy.

“Huh?”

“You seem to be in a big rush.”

“Oh, uh. Politics and international studies.”

“Really? Me too. Let’s walk together.”  
Mycroft grimaced. He wasn’t used to people being so friendly towards him like this. He then tried to smile nicely and replied, “Sure. We gotta hurry.”  
The two boys walked off towards their class together.

They got to class 10 minutes late and snuck in and took seats in the back of the room. When the other boy pulled out a notebook with his name scribbled across the front.

“Oliver Quincy.”  
Mycroft blinked his eyes to make sure he was reading the right thing. He then remembered where he’d seen that smile before.

“I’m Oliver. Tom’s a meanie. Don’t let him bother you.”

“Mycroft?” said a voice next to him.

“Huh?”  
Oliver turned to Mycroft, “Took you long enough. How are you? I haven’t seen you in years!”  
Mycroft just gaped at him.  
“Hey man, relax. Try not to look so sick. Let’s go get something to eat after this.”  
Mycroft just nodded.

After class Mycroft and Oliver walked to the local bar. Over a couple of drinks the two men caught up. Oliver had been the top footballer at his high school. Mycroft had been the top in his class. Mycroft told Oliver how boring the people at private school were. Oliver told Mycroft that after being friends with Mycroft, no one was as interesting. Sure, Oliver had his circle of friends, but he never felt what he had felt with Mycroft with them.

Mycroft and Oliver quickly became close friends again and by the middle of their second year their friendship had become something more.


	2. Meeting the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this story was originally a short one. It's now, obviously, growing into a larger monster.

It was Christmas and snow was on the ground. This year Mycroft had invited Oliver to come home and spend the holidays with him and his family. Mycroft had been nervous about asking Oliver to come home with him. They’d only officially been together for a few weeks. What if he said no? Oliver, of course, had said yes and kissed Mycroft on the cheek. Mycroft had beamed.

They were in the car that Mummy had sent for them. Mycroft had been gripping Oliver’s hand tightly for the past hour.

“Hey, what’s wrong My?” asked Oliver.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Replied Mycroft quickly.

“No, no you’re not. You’ve had my hand in a vice grip for the past hour. Something’s bothering you.”

“It’s just that-“ Mycroft began, “That I haven’t ever had anyone over. Well, not since 5th grade, and well, we’re- you know- together and I don’t know how Mummy and Sherlock will react.”

Oliver looked at Mycroft in disbelief.

“You haven’t had anyone over since the last time I was over?”

Mycroft let go of Oliver’s hand and faced the window and mumbled something.  
“What?”

“They were all so dull. Why would I want to have them over? Can we not talk about this?” Mycroft knew he was acting childish, but he really didn’t see why they need discuss it.

“Okay.” Said Oliver gently, “we’ll not talk about it any more.” He reached out and took Mycroft’s hand. “You haven’t told you family your gay?”

“I had no reason to. You were gone, and no one was like you.”

Oliver blinked. “No one was like me? What do you mean?”  
Mycroft sighed, some people could be so dim, even his Oliver. “I liked you back in 5th grade.”  
“What? When? Why?”  
“I’ve liked you since I met you. You were the first person who had ever stood up for me. You were my first, and only real friend.”

Oliver gave Mycroft’s hand a squeeze. “It’s okay. I’m here now, and we’re going to do this together. I’m sure they’ll see you’re happy and be happy for you.”

Mycroft grinned at Oliver. He always knew the right thing to say.

They had pulled up in the Holmes’ driveway and Mycroft could see Mummy walking towards the car to greet them. Oliver leaned over and gave Mycroft a quick peck on the lips.  
“Ready?”  
“Let’s get this over with.”

“Hi Mummy!” said Mycroft as he gave his mum a hug.  
“Mycroft! How good it is to see you. And Oliver, you’ve grown into quite a handsome man since I last saw you.” She said, beaming at Oliver.  
“Thank you Ms. Holmes.”  
“Oh call me Violet.”  
“Now come you two. Let’s get inside. Mycroft, Sherlock is waiting for you upstairs. He’s been waiting for you to come home. He’s in year 9 you know.”  
“Mummy wait. I have something to tell you.”  
“What is it dear?”  
Mycroft took a deep breath. Oliver took Mycroft’s hand and gave it a light squeeze.  
“Oliver and I are-” he struggled to find the right words, “we’re dating. He’s my boyfriend.”  
“Oh sweetie. I know. You’ve been sweet on him since you two first met. It was really adorable.”  
Mycroft was speechless. “You what?”  
Oliver put his arm around Mycroft and laughed. “See My? You have nothing to worry about. Now can we go inside? I’m cold.”

Upstairs a little pale face watched the events unfolding below.

“Mycroft! Mycroft! Mycroft!” yelled Sherlock as he ran down the stairs towards his brother.  
“Oof! Hey there Sherlock. How have you been?” said Mycroft as he picked up his little brother who wasn’t so little anymore.  
Sherlock giggled as Mycroft spun him.  
“Sherlock, this is Oliver.” Said Mycroft as he put Sherlock down.  
Sherlock stopped giggling and looked at Oliver.  
“Hey Sherlock. Nice to meet you.” Said Oliver smiling.  
Sherlock continued to look at Oliver, but he didn’t speak. Finally he said, “You and Mycroft are sleeping together.”  
Oliver looked taken aback by Sherlock’s bluntness.  
“Sherlock! Remember what Mummy said about deducing strangers.” Said Mycroft  
“What do you know of what Mummy tells me? You’ve been away for years! You don’t know anything about me! I wish you’d never come home! I hate you and you’re fat!” yelled Sherlock as he ran up the stairs to his room.  
Mycroft winced when he heard the slam of Sherlock’s door. “Oliver I’m sorry. He’s not so good with social cues and-“  
“It’s okay. He was right. How’d he know?”  
“He deduced it.” Muttered Mycroft.  
“I’ll have to ask him about it at dinner. How about you show me to our room and then you go talk to Sherlock. He seemed pretty upset.”  
“Okay. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

Mycroft led Oliver up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. When he opened the door he was surprised to see that nothing had changed. He hadn’t been home since year 9. The glow-in-the-dark stars were still on his ceiling and his teddy bear was sitting on his pillow as if it had been waiting for him to come home all these years.  
“Mr. Stuffy!” cried Mycroft has he picked up his old bear. “I’ve missed you. I want you to meet Oliver. Oliver, this is Mr. Stuffy. He was my friend after you left.”  
Oliver looked at the bear. He could see that it had been loved to death. An eye was missing and there were odd burn marks and splotches of dirt all over. Some of the stitching had some undone around the neck and he could see that someone, probably Mycroft, had tried to stitch it back together.  
“Hi Mr. Stuffy.”  
Mycroft grinned. “He likes you.”  
“Good.” Said Oliver as he stepped closer to Mycroft and pulled him into a hug. “I like him too.” Said Oliver, kissing Mycroft on the cheek, “ but I hope he understand that it’s me you’ll be cuddling with now.” He said, as he buried his fingers in Mycroft’s hair and pulled him in for a proper kiss.  
Mycroft’s breath caught in his throat as he felt Oliver’s tongue along his lips. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue along the length of Oliver’s. He caught his lower lip and nibbled it a bit. Oliver moaned into Mycroft’s mouth as he slid his hands down to rest on Mycroft’s lower back and pulled him closer. Mycroft groaned as he felt Oliver’s desire through his trousers.  
Mycroft reached down between them and began to unbutton Oliver’s trousers.  
“Mycroft, we have to stop.” Said Oliver breathlessly.  
“Why? Am I doing something wrong?”  
“No. Definitely not. You’re magnificent. It’s just that you really should go talk to Sherlock.”  
“Shit.” Cursed Mycroft. “You’re right. I forgot. Can’t I do it later?” he said, nuzzling Oliver’s neck and giving it light kisses.  
“We can do this later. It’s alright, but Sherlock needs his older brother right now.”  
Mycroft scowled. “Fine.”  
He straightened out his clothes. After a quick look in the mirror he pronounced himself presentable and leaned down to kiss Oliver who was sitting on his bed. “Wish me luck.” He said, and he was out the door.

Oliver flopped back onto Mycroft’s bed and sighed. He was in love, and he didn’t know how to tell Mycroft.


	3. Don't Forget Protection

Mycroft walked down the hall slowly towards his brother’s room. He had no idea what to say. Sherlock was right. He hadn’t been around for a while. He didn’t know what it was like for Sherlock. Mycroft sighed as he reached the door of his brother’s room before opening the door slowly.  
“Sherlock, may I come in?” asked Mycroft as he peered around the edge of the doorframe into Sherlock’s room.

Sherlock was sitting on his bed hugging his stuffed shark that Mycroft had gotten him for Christmas a few years back. Mycroft was surprised that Sherlock hadn’t destroyed it in some sort of experiment or another. Sherlock hugged the shark tighter and looked down at his feet which were hanging off the edge of his bed. Finally he mumbled, “fnn”  
Mycroft took that as a “fine” and walked into the room and shut the door behind him. He sat down next to Sherlock and sighed.  
“Sherlock, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, and you were right. I haven’t been here for you, but I am now.” He reached out his hand and placed it on Sherlock’s shoulder. Sherlock scooted closer and suddenly wrapped his arms around Mycroft.  
“Don’t go My. Please don’t go. Don’t leave us again like Daddy did.” He looked up at Mycroft with wide pleading eyes.  
Mycroft pulled Sherlock closer. “I have to go to school Sherlock.”  
“But it’s so boring without you.”  
“What about the kids at school?”  
“They’re all idiots.”  
Mycroft understood how Sherlock felt. Everyone else at school was boring. Everyone except for Oliver. Oliver was…perfect. He was interesting, smart, funny and he always knew what Mycroft needed, even when Mycroft himself didn’t know.  
“My?” said Sherlock, tugging at his sleeve.  
“Hmm?”  
“Wanna see my marshmallow guns?”  
“Yes. I’d love to.” Said Mycroft with a smile.

They spent the next 45 minutes shooting marshmallows at each other and ducking and rolling behind the various chairs and things in Sherlock’s room, and having a blast. It was as if nothing had happened earlier. They were just two brothers goofing around.

Oliver heard the laughing from down the hallway and made his way towards the laughter. When he opened the door he hadn’t expected to see Mycroft and Sherlock lying on the bed next to each other, marshmallow guns in hand, and marshmallows in their mouths, giggling like little girls.  
“Hey guys. It’s dinner time.”  
“Dinner?” asked Mycroft with a mouthful of marshmallows.  
“Yeah, dinner? Who needs dinner? Not hungry” giggled Sherlock and he struggled to keep the handful of marshmallows that he had tried to stuff into his mouth all at once from falling out of his mouth onto the bed.  
Mycroft sighed and sat up. “Come on Sherlock. Mummy will be expecting us down. Thanks Oliver.”  
Sherlock sat up and hiccupped which only sent him and Mycroft into another fit of laughter. Oliver walked over to Mycroft and offered his hand. Mycroft took it and Oliver pulled him to his feet.  
“Hey Sherlock, why don’t you go ahead and tell Mummy that Oliver and I will be right down?”  
“You two want to kiss don’t you?” asked Sherlock.  
Mycroft sighed. Of course Sherlock would know.  
“Yes, now shoo.”  
“Ew. Kissing is gross.” Said Sherlock as he got up. As he walked out of the room he looked over his shoulder and smiled at Mycroft. Mycroft smiled back and then Sherlock was gone.  
________________________________________________________________________  
“Come here you.” Said Mycroft, as he pulled Oliver closer. Oliver moved his hands to cup Mycroft’s face as he pulled him in for a kiss. Mycroft groaned as he felt Oliver’s tongue trying to pry his lips apart. He parted his lips and felt Oliver exploring; their teeth and tongues clashing. Mycroft let his hands fall to Oliver’s waist and he pulled him so that they could feel each other’s arousal through their trousers. Oliver began to rub himself against Mycroft; seeking more friction.  
“Oh god, Mycroft. Please.” Moaned Oliver, “so close. Need you.”  
Perhaps it was his partners words, perhaps not, but Mycroft stilled and untangled himself from his lover’s limbs. “We can’t do this here.” He said panting.  
Oliver groaned, “Ugh. You’re right. Shit.” He ran his fingers through his hair and made a face at Mycroft.  
Mycroft laughed and straightened his clothes. This would, once again, have to be put off until later. After they had a few minutes to cool down Mycroft took Oliver’s hand in his and they walked downstairs to dinner where, he knew, a curious Sherlock awaited them.  
“Oh no. You two did not just shag in my room did you?” asked a horrified Sherlock as they entered the room. Oliver blushed. Mycroft calmly answered, “No.” as he leaned down to kiss his mother on the cheek. Sherlock huffed.

Dinner was long. Oliver had recently decided that he had enjoyed petting Mycroft’s leg in public. Mycroft, of course, didn’t mind since it always led to more enjoyable activities later, but dinner that night was excruciating. Mycroft supposed it was because of their earlier activities. He clenched his fist as he felt Oliver’s hand working its way up his thigh.  
“So Sherlock,” asked Oliver, face completely calm, “how did you know that Mycroft and I were sleeping together?”  
Sherlock smirked, “I saw you when you got out of the car. Well you two were holding hands, and Mycroft’s lips were unusually pink. It was obvious.”  
Of course Sherlock had been watching. Mycroft involuntarily squirmed as Oliver gave the growing bulge in his trousers a squeeze.  
“Mummy, if you don’t mind. Oliver and I are going to go to bed. It’s been a long day.”  
“Yes dear, you two must be awfully tired.”  
Mycroft stood up and followed Oliver out of the dining room to the staircase.  
“Oh and darling!” called Ms. Holmes, “don’t forget protection!”  
Mycroft blushed and Oliver just laughed and grabbed his hand as he dragged Mycroft up the stairs to their room.

As Mycroft closed the door, Oliver turned around and shoved Mycroft against it. He pressed his lips to Mycroft’s softly at first then with more force. Oliver kissed around Mycroft’s ear which elicited a hiss.  
“Yess.”  
Mycroft reached up and buried his hand in Oliver’s hair. Oliver licked and nibbled at Mycroft’s neck the way he knew he loved it.  
“Oh god, Oliver please” panted Mycroft  
Mycroft pulled on Oliver’s hair so that he could see his face. He pressed his lips against Oliver’s and slipped his tongue between his eager lips. Mycroft could feel Oliver’s arousal pressing into his thigh. He reached down and began to fumbled with his partner’s belt as he was being thoroughly snogged within an inch of his life. Oliver reached down and placed his hands on Mycroft’s.  
“No love, not tonight. Tonight I’m going to give you the best blow job of your life and then I’m going to bugger you senseless. How does that sound?” asked Oliver, as he undid Mycroft’s belt and slipped a hand inside of his trousers. He cupped Mycroft through his thin shorts. Mycroft thrust into his lover’s touch.

Oliver removed his hand from Mycroft’s trousers and began to work on Mycroft’s shirt.  
“Why do you wear these shirts with so many buttons?” mumbled Oliver.  
“Here, let me do it. I’ll be faster. Take off your shirt.”  
Oliver gladly removed his t-shirt and threw it in the corner of the room by their suitcases. Once Mycroft had unbuttoned his shirt Oliver ran his hands over his chest. He kissed Mycroft quickly on the lips before kissing a trail down Mycroft’s body, paying special attention to his nipples, and stopping where the trail of hair that led into Mycroft’s trousers stopped. Mycroft groaned and looked down at Oliver.  
He was beautiful. On his knees in front of Mycroft, just kissing around the waistband of his trousers.  
“Please Oliver, now.”  
Oliver smiled up at him as he worked Mycroft’s pants down so that he was just standing in his shorts.  
Oliver loved seeing Mycroft like this- his shorts struggling and straining to keep Mycroft’s arousal contained. He slowly reached up and began to drag the cloth down. Mycroft’s cock sprang free of its confines and slapped against his belly, leaving a trail of precum behind. Olive grinned wickedly up at Mycroft before delivering a teasing lick to the engorged head. Mycroft let out a groan which he hadn’t intended to, but that was what he loved the most about Oliver: he made him lose control.  
Oliver ran a thumb over the tip of Mycroft’s cock and then, without warning, swallowed him down whole. Mycroft nearly came. He loved how Oliver seemed to have no gag reflex. He reached out and placed a hand on the back of Oliver’s head and pulled on it a bit. Oliver hummed happily around Mycroft’s cock. Mycroft pulled back and began to slowly thrust in and out of Oliver’s mouth.

Oliver loved how Mycroft felt inside his mouth. How his jaw had to stretch to allow for Mycroft’s member to slide in. He loved how Mycroft would thrust in and out, always careful to not choke him. He reached up and placed his hands on Mycroft’s hips to still them. He slid his lips off of Mycroft with a pop and smiled up at Mycroft.  
“I love you like this, so undone.”  
Mycroft moaned and gently pushed Oliver’s head back towards his crotch.  
“Impatient are we?” chuckled Oliver as he nuzzled Mycroft. He then wrapped his hand around Mycroft’s cock and began to slowly work his hand up and down. Mycroft began pumping up into his fist. Oliver leant in and ran his tongue along the underside of Mycroft’s shaft and then swirled his tongue around the tip. Mycroft gasped.  
“Please. I need- more. Please. Oh god. Hnnnngg. So close.”

Oliver swallowed Mycroft down to base again and reached up to give Mycroft’s balls a squeeze. That’s all Mycroft needed, he felt the familiar tightness and tingling in his balls, and soon he was thrusting and spilling his semen down Oliver’s throat. Oliver sucked and pumped Mycroft dry. Once Oliver released Mycroft’s spent cock Mycroft felt his knees give out and he slumped to the ground panting. Oliver crawled next to Mycroft who wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close to his chest. Oliver listened to Mycroft’s heart beat as he came down off his high. Mycroft traced shapes across Oliver’s chest contently and kissed the top of his head. Oliver tilted his head up and gave him a peck on the cheek.  
“Okay love?”  
“Yes. Definitely okay.”  
“Good. Ready for round two?” asked Oliver as he untangled himself and stood up. Mycroft noticed that Oliver still had his trousers on and was sporting a rather impressive erection. He smiled and stood up.  
“Ready when you are.” he replied, as he let himself be led over to his bed.


	4. Chapter 4: We need to talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a few years after their first Christmas together. They both are busy working and don't see each other as often as they both would like.
> 
> AN: Sorry this chapter is short and horrible. life, y'know?

A few years had passed since their first Christmas together. Mycroft and Oliver were both out of university. Mycroft worked late hours for his job in the British, and Oliver was busy working as a sculptor. Oliver had found that government work was too tedious. He wanted something more hands on. After University, Mycroft and Oliver had bought a flat together in London, so that Mycroft was close to his work. They rarely saw each other, and when they did, Mycroft was often too tired to do much.  
It was one of those rare nights when Mycroft made it home at a reasonable hour. Mycroft sat on their couch typing away at his laptop, while Oliver sat in the third bedroom, that they had declared to be his studio, working to bring his newest vision to life. Mycroft stopped typing and listened to the sound of Oliver chipping away at the stone in the other room. Mycroft wondered when their life together had gotten like this. When had they become so used to being apart that when they were together, they remained distant?   
Mycroft sighed and put his laptop on the table next to the couch. He stood up and walked towards Oliver’s studio. He stood in the doorway, silently watching Oliver work. Mycroft loved Oliver, and it was about time he did something to ensure that he’d never lose the one thing he loved. The little black box in his pocket seemed to heavier as he walked towards Oliver. Oliver was busy working on the nose of his figure and hardly noticed Mycroft’s approaching footsteps. Mycroft walked up behind Oliver and slowly wrapped his arms around him.

“Hey you,” he said as his lips brushed the shell of his lover’s ear.  
Oliver leaned back into Mycroft’s arms. They stayed like that a while; Mycroft gently nuzzling Oliver’s neck and Oliver tilting his head to allow Mycroft better access. They both spoke at the same time,

“I need to ask you something,” said Mycroft.

“I need to tell you something,” said Oliver.

“You first,” said Mycroft.

Oliver sighed and untangled himself from Mycroft’s arms. “Maybe we should talk about this some place more comfortable. Bed?”  
Mycroft looked at Oliver. They hadn’t gone to bed in a while. They’d been so busy. He smiled down at Oliver. Mycroft took Oliver’s hand in his and led him to the bedroom. Mycroft missed the sad look in Oliver’s eyes.


	5. Bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had intended to write more, but I couldn't bring myself to do it yet. Hopefully another chapter will be up by the end of the weekend. One where the plot actually goes somewhere.

Oliver followed Mycroft through their flat to their room. He watched as Mycroft loosened his tie and began to unbutton his shirt. Mycroft put his tie on a hook in their closet and put his shirt in the hamper. He then proceeded to pull his t-shirt over his head and threw that into the hamper as well. He walked over to the bed, flipped off his shoes and removed his socks-balling them up into a ball and tossing them so that they could join his shirt. He pulled back the covers and crawled into bed.

 

Oliver stood and looked at Mycroft in bed. His eyes drifted from the little swirl of hair on his forehead to his piercing Holmesian eyes. He let his eyes moved down Mycroft’s body to his collar bone and across his bare chest. When he looked back up at Mycroft’s face it was tilted and Mycroft was looking at him with his brow furrowed.

 

“Care to join me, love?”

 

Oliver nodded, took off his shirt, discarded his shoes and socks and then crawled into bed next to Mycroft. He scooted down the bed so that he could put his chest in the crook of Mycroft’s neck. Mycroft wrapped his arms around Oliver and held him tightly. Oliver leaned into Mycroft.

 

“So, what did you need to tell me?” asked Mycroft.

 

Oliver buried his nose into Mycroft’s neck and breathed in deeply-taking in the scent of the man he loved.

 

“ _I’ll miss this._ ” he thought as he felt Mycroft’s fingers moving through his hair.

 


End file.
